


Far-off Horizon

by amuk



Series: Hitsuzen [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Chains, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Prisoner of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was always staring out that window, out to something he could never see. To something no one, perhaps, could ever see but her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far-off Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: #29 // Awakening Dream

She is always sitting up on the bed when he comes to visit. It has a thin mattress—he will have to get it replaced before his next visit, Sasuke notes—and the frame somehow manages to retain a bright bronze look even though no one has cleaned it in years. The faded green blanket is threadbare, covering her legs. It probably doesn’t keep her warm enough, so he will have to replace it as well, even though he has never heard a single complaint from her.

 

Maybe that is a part of her nature or maybe she realizes any complaints are for small matters, things that really don’t count in the large scheme of things. If she asks for it, her barely furnished room can be filled with the latest of products and comfy enough for a princess. She has the power, if she wants to use it.

 

She never does.

 

Instead, it is a dreary room with only the large window brightening it.

 

As usual, when he opens the door and entered the room, she is staring at the sky. Her eyes never stray from that deep blue sky, not even when he comes in. It doesn’t matter if there are clouds or if there are stars, whenever he visits her she is always staring at that sky.

 

Other guards, curious about their important charge, would ask him, “What does she see out there?”

 

He has no answers to that. He never bothered to ask—it isn’t a part of his duties to know—so he would give a quick shrug or, when pressed, a simple answer. “There’s nothing for her to do in that room. No books, no toys. Boredom is a likely answer.” It would be enough to satisfy the guards.

 

Not that he believes that is the answer. What he thinks is of no consequence anyways—he isn’t paid to think over such trivial matters.

 

“You’re back,” she finally utters after he has been kneeling at the foot of her bed for ten minutes. He takes that as a sign to stand. She still hasn’t turned to him and he can’t see her face properly, her long pink locks blocking his view.

 

“Yes, Haruno-sama.”

 

She purses her lips. “I told you to call me ‘Sakura’ or ‘Sakura-sama’, at the very least.”

 

“…that would be going too far.”

 

She sighs, a large sound for such a tiny girl. “I suppose. At least you are calling me by my name now. It’s nice to hear someone else say my name, Sasuke-san.”

 

She is annoyed with him, he can tell. Apparently she only reacts to him these days. Before, she would talk to others that came to her room but in short, clipped sentences that revealed nothing of value. Gradually, those visitors stopped coming, discouraged by her behaviour.  

 

It is with him that she gives conversations, words that expressed herself and her gifts. At times she would talk in riddles, only to give him what he came for in the end.

 

While she can talk to others, she never looks at anyone but him. When others come, her eyes remain trained on the sky but with him, she will take them back to her guest.

 

Perhaps that is why he is valuable. Besides his talents in the battlefield, he is their connection to her.

 

Sasuke is determined to make the most of it.

 

 Her lips part to ask a question but she stops herself. Returning to earth, she turns to face him and he finally sees her green eyes.

 

Good. She is willing to help, then.

 

“What do you want to know?” she asks, sighing, breaking the silence and darkening the light. With her powers, she can probably guess the question right away but she craves their conversations. A little touch of humanity, a little taste of something different. It keeps her going during the days and months she spends in this room.

 

“Are there any unexpected surprises for our next battle?” Sasuke asks, watching her carefully. It is his job, should she ever go too deep in a trance, to drag her out of it.

 

As she nods, her eyes glaze over and slowly fade from the edges inwards. The dark forest green transforms into a soft spring green before disappearing into white. She stares at him but doesn’t see him. It is a disorienting feeling, uncomfortable at worst, and he patiently waits until she is done.

 

Another reason they are matched up; his patience. He can wait the minutes or hours it takes for her to finish her foreseeing. Even though he knows that she can have this all done before hand, he still doesn’t mind waiting.

 

(“I like a little company now and then,” she told him. “Even if I don’t act like it, I do enjoy it sometimes. So when I do get it, why cut it short?”

 

He ignored the fact that he was the only one who visited her anymore.)

 

This time the wait is short for it is only a few minutes later that she blinks and her eyes are a bright shade of green, the grass on a sunny day. There is a small gasp as she returns to herself and reality and she shivers slightly.

 

She does notice the cold, so the new blanket is a priority.

 

“An ambush will happen.”

 

“When?”

 

“In…three days,” she counts her fingers to make sure, thinking the events she saw. “In three days, approximately noon.”

 

“Where?” All these questions are there for her benefit. She doesn’t like answering otherwise and would leave out information then.

 

“A…wooden bridge.” He had suspected so. “A long wooden bridge. A defector will betray your location.”

 

“A defector?” They don’t have very many—the soldiers value their lives too much. “What does he look like?”

 

“He has long white hair, wild and messy. They are cut unevenly and he has slate grey eyes. His fingers are covered in dirty bandages.”

 

Sasuke pulls out his notebook and starts to write down everything she told him. After checking he got everything he needs, he gives her a quick, “Thank you.”

 

She watches as he elegantly adds a few more notes and wonders what else he is adding. His fingers are long and she wonders if his hands are rough. Looking at her own, she tries to imagine what it would feel like to touch someone.

 

It is hard, her memory of it too long ago.

 

“You might die this time.” She drops the bomb and waits for the reaction.

 

Sasuke doesn’t disappoint. His fingers pause in mid-stroke, unable to decide whether to continue or to stop, and he stiffens slightly. Then, getting over the surprise, he asks, “How?”

 

“…” She wonders what would happen if she refuses to tell him and he dies. He’d probably be replaced by someone she hates and wouldn’t talk to, resulting in force. Even worse would be a replacement she liked too much. Then she would be even more aware of what she missed in here.

 

At least with Sasuke, she doesn’t hate or like him. Besides, she is a little attached to him, even if it is only because there is no one else to get attached to. She only eats the meals he brings in, distrusting the other maids who bring them in when he’s gone. When’s he not there, she doesn’t bother to eat.

 

Running a hand through her hair, she shakes her head at her thoughts. She can’t let him die yet. “The day after the bridge, there is an old tree. A man is lying in wait for a general who you will rescue and get badly hurt in the process off.”

 

Her eyes leave his after that, turning once more at the sky as he starts writing again. Sometimes, when he’s gone, she stands by that window and stares down at the soldiers running across the yard. They look like tiny dolls to her and she can’t understand why they had to drag her into their fight like this.

 

(Whatever happened to fighting fair?)

 

Sasuke watches her out of the corner of his eye, notices her withdrawing into herself once more. She tends to do that when she realizes he’s about to leave, a child protecting herself from pain. Transforming into a doll once more, he averts his eyes from her face before he can see how blank they are turning.

 

He adds to the list a plant, something to keep her occupied while she waits in-between visits.

 

Turning to leave, he is surprised to hear her speak once more. “Do you ever visit because you want to?” There is another question in her voice, a hint of longing and want.

 

She watches him bow once more and leave, not answering her question. It’s fine, she knows the truth already, without even looking for it. It’s fine, she tells herself, and wills herself to believe it.

 

Sakura knows the truth just as she recognizes the cold metal on her ankles or the clank of chains when she walks.


End file.
